But when the rays of sun came through the ragged curtains over the windows, she felt herself stir, and she turned over and opened her eyes, only to find Draven standing in the wide doorway across the room from her, his figure leaning on the doorframe facing out towards the forest.
She watched him a moment, allowing the day to sink in, allowing her mind to grasp on to why she was there and not in her own black sheets beneath the golden canopy of her four-poster bed. The smell of the forest entered her nostrils, but she could not make herself get up.
Her heart ached for the sound of her raven’s morning cackle.
A tear fell down her cheek, and she pulled the blanket up around her once more.
It was a few minutes later when she felt the bed shift, and she knew Draven had sat down beside her. She didn’t move, pretending to be asleep, not wanting to see any pity he might have for her on his features.
He didn’t shake her. He didn’t push her. He simply leaned down and kissed her shoulder, giving her hip a squeeze through the blanket before rising once more.
She stayed in the bed the rest of the day, and the next, not even rising when he would bring food up. Her core felt drained, void of the presence that had so long been with her.
It was weird. She was so accustomed to hearing her raven’s voice, feeling its comforting presence at her side at all times of the day and night. She felt as though a small piece of her had vanished. The comfort blanket she shielded herself with now gone.
She felt terrible for not getting up and at least speaking to Draven, but she didn’t know what to do, what to say, even how to act. She was grateful for him, not only because he’d aided her, but because he wasn’t being pushy about anything. He wasn’t crowding her, forcing her to be whatever normal was.
At night, he simply laid beside her and kissed her shoulder, not wrapping her up in his arms until she was the one to snuggle against him. And when she would snuggle into him or take his arm and wrap it around her, he would sigh heavily and kiss her neck, just softly enough that she knew he was there. She appreciated him more than she could put into the words she wanted to tell him. Telling him she loved him did not seem enough to express what she’d come to feel.
He saw her.
The real her.
Heheardher.
It was on the third morning that she finally rose from the sheets. Her frazzled hair was matted on the right side of her head, the rest of it poking out in a wild mane of curls. She could feel knots in the ends and on the back of her head. The shirt Draven had given her hung loose on her deteriorating body.
But the smell of the forest intoxicated her. It was a cool morning, the kind of cool morning where you want to sit on your balcony snuggled in a blanket, warm cup of tea in your hands. She rubbed her face in her palms a moment as she sat up, allowing the blood to flow back to her core.
She allowed her legs to dangle over the side of the bed, waking her toes up one by one. The cool wood touched her feet, and she made herself get up.
Sunlight flooded through the canopy of the trees, the rust of the turning leaves catching in the rays. The light cascaded down and hit the wooden rail of the balcony. Birds’ songs flittered in her ears.
This was the new morning she would remember for the remainder of her days. Her first truly quiet morning that she actually accepted, without the struggle of the crown on her head or the comfort of her raven at her side.
She hugged her arms to her chest as she felt a tear fall down her cheek. A quiet sigh left her, and she leaned herself on the banister of the railing. Below, she could see men and women enjoying themselves as they ate their breakfasts, the laughter of the men making her smile inwardly. The sun hit her face, and she had to close her eyes as its warmth penetrated her skin. It was as though the Sun herself were speaking to her, telling her it would be okay.
When her eyes opened once more, she found Draven’s figure standing in the middle of conversation with Balandria and Bael on the other side of the clearing between the trees.
It was Balandria who saw her first. Her small eyes smiled at her. She nudged Draven’s chest and gave an upwards nod towards the balcony. Aydra’s stomach fluttered upon meeting his gaze. The ghost of a smile spread across his lips.
Another Hunter joined them, and Draven’s attention was turned as the man shook his shoulders jovially. She felt a laugh rise on her lips as she watched them. A few moments later, she found herself sitting on the balcony floor, leaned against one of the railings with her legs tucked into her chest. A lizard had found her, and she was speaking with it about what it had planned for its day when she heard footsteps on the stairs.
The warmth of his smile met hers as he slowed as he took the last few steps up to the platform. Her heart knotted in her chest as the look in his eyes, the look she so cherished, as though he were seeing her for the first time.
“Making friends?” he asked with a nod to the lizard.
She chuckled and let the lizard back on the railing. “Always.”
He reached out for her hands, which she gladly took, and the rush at which he pulled her to her feet made her fall into his arms. She laughed as he hugged her into him, her forearms lying on his chest, the hug of his hand on the small of her back.
“Hi,” he whispered.
The curl of his fingers in her matted hair made her knees weaken. “Hi,” she managed in a voice she barely heard.
His nose nudged against hers, and she closed her eyes in response to the jagged breaths now threatening her lungs.
“Your heart is beating really fast,” he muttered.
